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One Goes a JourneyAuthor(s): Liu Shih-an, Florence Ayscough and Amy LowellSource: Poetry, Vol. 13, No. 5 (Feb., 1919), pp. 236-237Published by: Poetry FoundationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20571983 .
Accessed: 15/05/2014 04:25
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POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
But I stand beside the Lang Temple, Doing nothing And speaking not at all.
Liang T'ung-shu-Eighteenth Century
THE PALACE BLOSSOMS
When the rain ceases, The white water-flowers of Ch'ang Lo stroll together at
sunset In the City by the River. The young girls are no longer confined In the tower pavilions, But may gaze at the green water Whirling under the bridge of many turnings.
T'ai Ta-mien-Eighteenth Century
ONE GOES A JOURNEY
He is going to the T'ung T'ing lake, My friend whom I have loved so many years. The spring wind startles the willows And they break into pale leaf. I go with my friend As far as the river-bank. He is gone And my mind is filled and overflowing With the things I did not say.
[236]
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Florence Ayscough and Amy Lowell
Again the white water-flower Is ripe for plucking. The green pointed swords of the iris Splinter the brown earth. To the south of the river Are many cinnamon trees. I gather branches of them to give to my friend At his return.
Liu Shih-an-Eighteenth Century
FROM THE STRAW HUT AMONG THE SEVEN PEAKS
From the high pavilion of the great rock, I look down at the green river. There is the sail of a returning boat. The birds are flying in pairs. The faint snuff color of trees Closes the horizon, All about me Sharp peaks jag upward, But through my window, And beyond, Is the smooth, broad brightness
Of the setting sun.
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